Fumbling Towards Ecstasy
by Cyberpunk2909
Summary: Life certainly wasn't what it was twenty-four hours ago... Johnny/Surfer
1. Prologue: Contemplations On A Rooftop

**Title:** Fumbling Towards Ecstasy (1/?)  
**Author:** pravusmutatio  
**Disclaimer:** I'm going to hatch a plan to take over the universe, and when I do…Marvel will be mine!! But until I do, it remains the property of Stan Lee /grumbles\\  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Characters:** Johnny Storm/Silver Surfer  
**Warnings: **Slash, Movie-verse, Comic-verse  
**Summary:** Life certainly wasn't what it used to be twenty four hours ago.

**Author's Note:** So, Sarah McLachlan is my new goddess, and well, the current form my muse wants to take on. So, for this particular story, blame the inspiration on her, and uh…her album: Remixed. GAWD!!

**Prologue:**  
Twenty Four Hours

Twenty four hours ago, they saved the world…again.

Twenty four hours, and the world was celebrating. Nation after nation, country after country, people all across the globe were raising their voices in multitudinous cries, collective sighs of relief and patting each other on the back as if they themselves had done a job well done and not the exhausted Four heroes, who, upon returning to the Baxter building, retreated to their own domiciles for much needed rest: Reed and Sue Storm-now-Richards had gone off into their own room; Ben had gone off to seek out the comfortable, soft arms of Alicia, and Johnny…

He could've called any number of super models or celebrities and thrown a big party and done it up in typical Johnny Storm style, but for some reason, he could not find it in himself to celebrate or to even succumb to much needed rest. He stood instead on the rooftop of the Baxter building, staring up at the stars.

If someone had told him weeks ago that he'd be fighting an intergalactic bad guy, Johnny might've called them crazy. Despite all the weird, crazy freaky shit he's seen on Earth, bad guys that existed beyond the tiny microcosm of Earth's solar system had never occurred to him. But now…

The veneer of cocky, arrogant asshole was temporarily suspended, and for once Johnny let thoughts rush through him much as he let his own flames surge and twist and curl inside of him, thoughts of the being called Galactus, roiling and frothing above Earth's atmosphere, about to consume the planet whole. Thoughts of Sue and when he'd almost thought, for the tiniest second, that he'd lost his sister, lost one of the few people on the planet that mattered to him…

And, then most importantly, thoughts of a certain silvery alien, one of whom—if he'd never shown up—would not have brought down the unholy hell of Galactus in the first place. Then again…Johnny couldn't be entirely mad at the guy. It had been Sue who'd told him later that Norrin Radd—Norrin Radd?—had had a semi-decent reason as to why he'd done what he'd done: Norrin Radd was saving his own home world from destruction. And—under the circumstances—if Johnny'd been in Radd's place, he figured he would have done the exact same thing; he just wouldn't have been able to bear knowing that Sue was dead and gone, that the Earth was dead and gone and that he was all alone in the vast nothingness of space with a world devouring _thing_ as his only companion. He didn't know how Radd could have even stood it.

So intent on the sight of stars after endless stars above him and so wrapped in his thoughts, he did not hear or see his sister Sue until she was standing right next to him, gently calling his name and placing a cautious hand on his shoulder. He gave a start, small crackles of flames shooting from his hands in a burst of surprise.

"Jeez, Johnny!" Sue exclaimed, patting at her clothes before they caught fire. "Watch it!"

He winced. "Sorry, I didn't see you." He eyed her as she checked then double checked to make sure her clothes were completely out. "What are you doing out here anyway?"

"I came to check on you," she replied, concern lacing her tone once more. "I checked to see if you were in your room, but you weren't. I figured the roof was my best bet."

He smirked at his sister. "Good guess." They lapse into silence as he shoved his hands into his pockets and Johnny's gaze drifted back to the night time sky. Sue followed his gaze.

"You thinking about…" she paused. "You thinking about the Surfer?"

Johnny glanced at her. Shrugged.

"I'm guessing he didn't survive the..uh…whole blowing up of the ginormous planet eater thing," Johnny replied with another shrug. Sue stepped forward, placed a comforting hand on his shoulder and squeezed.

"Reed can't find him on any of his scanners, and he looked four times." Sue sighed. "I suppose he sacrificed himself…" she glanced at the sky as she said this, then dropped her gaze back down and met her brother's troubled blue eyes with her own… "and saved us all."

"Yeah, well." Johnny kicked a stray rock that had loosed itself from the Baxter building rooftop and shoved his hands deeper in his pockets. "You know, if he hadn't have brought that…thing….here, none of this would've happened."

Sue smiled sadly at her brother, took one last look at the stars, and said, "Yeah. Maybe." She took her brother's hand and tugged gently, pulling him towards the open doorway that lead back inside. "C'mon. Let's go inside. You need some rest."

Johnny nodded, dropping his gaze from the cold pinpricks of cosmic lights, smiled his own wan smile at his sister and followed her, letting her lead him inside.

* * *

Somewhere, just above the Earth's atmosphere, between the distant street lights below and the farther distant star light above, a figure floated, semi-conscious, as the sun crested the rim of this tiny blue-green ball of a world. The light reflected off the figure's metallic skin, a curious mixture of silver and radiant gold.

The chest of this figure moved. Up and down, absorbing the power of this solar system's sun. His body twitched with the quickening of rapidly approaching wakefulness, an onslaught of consciousness 

that dragged him from the comforting embrace of darkness and into the reality of a blazing sun and the world below, safe and whole and nearly untouched by Galactus' power.

His body twitched again, silver skin rippling, muscles contracting, shifting, nerves wakening once more to the power cosmic that flowed through him, through his blood and through his bones. And when he felt the ghostly whisper of cosmic power finally caress his mind and the psychic link of his board re-assert itself, his eyes snapped open, his board soared towards him and he reached out, grabbing its slender side, feeling strength returning to him anew.

He was Norrin Radd, and he was alive.


	2. Building a Mystery

**Title:** Fumbling Towards Ecstasy (1/?)  
**Author:** pravusmutatio  
**Disclaimer:** I'm going to hatch a plan to take over the universe, and when I do…Marvel will be mine!! But until I do, it remains the property of Stan Lee grumbles  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Characters:** The cast of the Fantastic 4, and maybe some OCs thrown in here or there  
**Pairing:** Johnny Storm/Silver Surfer  
**Warnings: **Slash, Movie-verse, Comic-verse  
**Summary:** After the events of the Galactus Incident, Johnny is noticing that life may never be the same again…

**Author's Note:** This takes place directly after the events of F4: ROTSS, and borrows sparingly ideas and mayhap a few events from the comic books for our beloved silvery space alien. However, don't get mad at me if I do a gross injustice to some of the characters…Okay, okay, I jest….No, seriously!!

**Episode One:  
**Building a Mystery  
Part One

If there was one thing on the planet that Aaron Jones was afraid of it was the dark.

Ever since he was a child he'd had a terrible fear that someone or something lived in it, grew in it, thrived in it, and not just the typical crack-pot criminal that wanted your wallet or purse. No, no, something much more sinister than that. He figured that, at his age, he should've gotten over it years ago. He was sixty-five after all, and life had taught him that the daylight could be a scary time too. But the fear had never quite abated. Oh, it swelled and ebbed over the years, growing and fading in intensity, but never quite leaving him at all. It was the reason why his wife had divorced him at forty-eight and why his kids, all-grown up and with youngsters of their own, only visited their father when it was absolutely necessary—sometimes holidays and maybe a call on his birthday, if they remembered.

At one time they—his family and friends—had tried to get him help, and for a time the help had succeeded: he'd taken his medications like a good father and husband, tried to focus on other things aside from his irrational fear. Hell, he'd even succeeded a few times in going out at night to get milk and cereal for the kids when they ran out. But that had been before his wife had left him and he'd become an almost non-existent entity to his children. Life had spiraled into hell when he'd turned forty-two, and he'd finally found out that his fear of the dark…well, it was incredibly justified.

His family and friends hadn't believed him, of course, and how could they? They'd never seen what he saw, experienced what he'd felt: the mind-numbing fear, the breathless realization that everything he'd known, everything that he'd come to believe, was actually true and that those crack-pot head doctors knew absolutely nothing, _nothing_, at all. He'd tried to warn as many people as he could, and they only humored him until the joke stopped being funny and his crazy tirades started wearing thin on their nerves. That's when Martha packed up and left. That's when Jimmy and Joanne and little Theresa stopped calling him 'Daddy' and just the sperm donor their mother screwed with three separate times. And, yeah, it hurt like hell, but maybe it was for the best; Martha and the kids…they were safer away from him than near.

He weaved drunkenly down the street, head lolling listlessly to the side as he tried to focus his blurred vision on the world in front of him. He'd been at a local Irish-styled pub earlier that day, nursing his own beer, and had only intended to stay for a few hours to kill the time. But then Ernie, the bar's owner, had slipped him another drink, and then another and then another, and before Aaron knew it, night had fallen and Ernie was closing shop. He'd tried to tell Ernie, tried to explain to him that he just couldn't go out at night, not at night, never at night, and that the other man just had to let him stay in a well lit room, the back storage room maybe? But Ernie hadn't listened, just chocked Aaron's fears up to the alcohol that was swimming in his blood. He'd kicked the frightened Aaron out good naturedly, promising to have the place opened bright and early tomorrow.

Tomorrow…

Tomorrow?

Didn't Ernie know…?

Aaron couldn't wait until then. He needed to be inside and quickly. He weaved further down the street, trying to keep his balance, feeling the alcohol slosh in the pit of his stomach. He muttered drunkenly to himself a mantra that he'd come up with years ago that sometimes helped to assuage his fears: "Thersh noffing n'th'dark. Thersh noffing n'th'dark.. Thersh noffing n'th'dark.…" It was a lie, of course, but it helped his mind keep focused on the task at hand: getting to a diner. He knew of one, not too far away, owned by this tough, old broad named Sal. He'd met her some time ago a few months back, when he'd come staggering in there at four in the morning, scared even of his own shadow. She'd been kind enough to fix him a coffee on the house and, after that night, Sal'd welcomed him any time during the week, day or night, and didn't half mind his absent mutterings as long as he kept to himself in one of the distant booths in the back.

If he could just get there now, he'd be alright. He'd be able to pretend that the night was normal, that the shadows housed nothing in them save a stray dog or cat and he'd be able to sleep off his drunkenness in relative peace. But the night, it seemed, had other plans.

A rat came skittering out of the alleyway he passed, and he nearly cried out in fright. It paused on the sidewalk, glaring at him with angry, red little eyes, hissed at him and skittered away underneath a parked car along the street. Aaron's heart was hammering in the cave of his chest and his stomach lurching uneasily. The diner seemed miles and miles away, even if it were only a few blocks. Shadows suddenly seemed to loom from the alleyway he stood beside, darkness curling around streetlights, their pools of amber glow shrinking almost and dimming with the onslaught of night.

Aaron ducked his head, tried to steady his panicked breathing.

"Thersh noffing n'th—"

"Aaron," came the silky hiss from behind. Aaron froze, heart suddenly leaping into his throat.

"Who-Whosh ou'there?" He called, his voice a frightened hiss.

"We're waiting for you, Aaron," came the hiss again. It felt like someone was standing very, very close behind him, breathing a cold chill on the exposed skin of his neck, sending a violent tremble up and down his body. "We've been waiting a long time."

"Pl-please." His voice trembled, his body quaking, his mind a whirl of fear and confusion. "Who—"

"You've known always," the hiss was closer now, a whisper across the flesh of his ear, "that we existed. You've known always that we were there…in the shadows…in the night. We've been waiting for you, Aaron. Join us."

Aaron closed his eyes, sucked in a shaky breath. "No. No. No. No."

The hissing voice laughed, melodious despite its silken drawl. Aaron's feeble denial died in his throat.

"We will not wait any longer," came the voice again. "We shall have you. You shall be ours."

"No," Aaron whispered, helpless. "I will not—"

But before he could protest, he felt himself lifted bodily from the sidewalk and dragged into a nearby alley, dragged into the darkness that he had feared so desperately as a child into adulthood and even into old age. And despite, his resistance, despite the fearful pump of adrenaline that surged through him, he could not fight the force that was dragging him within, could not stop the tendrils of darkness that snaked out of the alley, wrapped around his flailing limps and pulled.

It was then that Aaron let out a terrified, blood-curdling scream.


	3. Building A Mystery part two

**Title:** Fumbling Towards Ecstasy (1/?)  
**Author:** pravusmutatio aka cyberpunk2909  
**Disclaimer:** Let's just say that I am, regretfully, not Stan Lee and that I have no ability to make this a reality...well, not _canon_ wise anyway...evil laugh  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Characters:** Johnny Storm/Silver Surfer  
**Warnings: **Slash, Movie-verse/Comic-verse  
**Summary:** Johnny has been feeling oddly for weeks...

**Author's Note: **You know, at first I had thought that this **fic** wasn't going to get any reviews and had kind of lost hope. But lo and behold, I got on this fanfiction dot net and saw some reviews, and my hope was restored. Here's Part Two of Episode One! Thanks for the reviews!!

**Episode One:  
**Building a Mystery  
Part Two

The city of New York was quiet surprisingly, not a robbery or carjacking in weeks. There wasn't even a purse-snatching, and Johnny watched over the bustling city, suspended in the atmosphere, as cars traveled to and fro down below, people on their merry way, living their unassuming lives. Maybe the criminals were continuing on giving the police a break since the Galactus Incident. Maybe the crime lords and the gangs were suspending their activities and giving the Four a much needed vacation. Johnny snorted. And maybe pigs really were flying somewhere in Kansas, right now.

He flew effortlessly around the bulk of a large office building; his reflection in the glass distorted and warped, a bright yellow and red blob, gliding passed.

It had been two months since Galactus had come, and the world had returned to a relative state of normalcy: people returned to being assholes to each other, Susan Richards returned to being hounded by the fashion media for every wardrobe malfunction or blunder she'd made as the Invisible Woman and Johnny Storm was still the world's most cocky and arrogant daredevil.

Deciding not to pass up a very good thing for however long it lasted, the Four took the continued well-deserved break: Reed pursued his research with his lovely, new bride at his side and Ben and Alicia were currently shacked up in their shared apartment, doing whatever was '_humanly'_ possible between a big rock and a soft, pliable female (Johnny tried not to think too hard about it). And, he…well, he couldn't just take a break like his fellow teammates.

Hence, his city patrolling.

But even with the lull in any type of criminal activity, planetary or otherwise, Johnny felt like there was something amiss in the world. He'd been feeling that way for weeks; even after Galactus.

Ever since...well, ever since Norrin Radd _officially _disappeared. The media had dubbed him the Silver Surfer, and Johnny might've found that title vaguely humorous if it weren't for the fact that the Four couldn't find the stoic alien. Even so, Johnny had not given up hope, not in those first couple of weeks. But after begging Ben to search the skies repeatedly and even long range scans of the distant planets of their solar system, Johnny had finally given up hope. They couldn't find the Surfer, and probably never 

would. He couldn't understand why that fact bothered him so. Apart from having the shit scared out of him when his powers got messed up, oh and peering up into the heart of one very hungry, planet devouring fiend, he and the silvery alien hadn't spoken much at all.

In fact, he would've thought that Sue would've been more broken up about Radd's disappearance than he was, but she was too busy living in marital bliss to even notice. Not that she didn't care—he had caught her on occasion looking up into the star-lit sky, her face creased with worry or some other unfathomable emotion—she just had other things to worry about. And really, if you thought about it, if Radd hadn't have shown up, Galactus would've been munching on another world and would've left the Earth alone to its own already fucked-up devices.

Johnny shook his head and sailed past another building.

Now, the world governments were contemplating the idea of life on other worlds, and for some reason Johnny got the feeling that that would not bode well for anyone, Earthling or otherwise. He could just picture capitalist gluttons clamoring over each other, fighting over which new world to exploit. Of course, he was himself a capitalist glutton, but not like that. Not when he _knew_ it would potentially harm someone or something. What he did was child's play at best.

And, speaking of harm…

He glanced down at an alleyway as he passed over, spotting movement, and while to any other, normal New Yorker that was their cue to move on along home, to Johnny it was an open invitation. Clearly, the criminal element was not, in fact, giving crime fighters a break, for which Johnny Storm was not ungrateful; he was getting bored and he needed something to do. Johnny made an effortless U-turn in mid-air, heading back towards the alley to check it out.


End file.
